


Second is the Best

by Pineappowl



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Gladiolus Amicitia Being An Asshole, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:28:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24418888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pineappowl/pseuds/Pineappowl
Summary: Years of training your ass off and you've never even come close to his level. You hate his stupid face. His stupid, arrogant, smug...kinda sexy face.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Reader
Kudos: 31





	Second is the Best

**Author's Note:**

> So here's the thing. I wrote this like the week after FFXV came out and then never wrote anything else for it. I was going through all of my old content and found it and thought 'Hey, this is kind of hot' so I'm sharing it here for you now. If it gets any interest, I might write more for it. I have like 6 different pieces of smut I've written to go with it but just never really bothered to form it all into a cohesive story. Right now the rating is just because angsty reader likes to curse a lot. Enjoy!

The burn of your muscles being pushed to their limit was just what you needed to distract you from the events of your long day. Training to be a glaive was no easy task and it was one you took very seriously. Your body had been shaped into that of a warrior, all lithe muscle and power. You weren't the largest girl, but what you lacked in height and power you made up in speed, your graceful movement and proficiency with a scythe giving you the grisly nick name of _Reaper_. Today unfortunately, the usual grace and finesse in which you handled yourself was nowhere to be seen.

The weight of the wooden great sword was heavier than what you were used to and the balance was off from your preferred weapon, but since you had left your trusty scythe back at the dorm and were not yet able to summon weapons from the kings arsenal, this was the best you could do for training. You supposed it was at least good to be capable in using in other weapons besides your first choice anyways, even if your movements felt sluggish and awkward as you struggled to accommodate the weight.

You widened your stance and swept the sword in a large arc, your arms burning from the effort as you did so. After a few more swings and jabs you let the weapon drop as you tried to catch your breath from the training, startling slightly as an unexpected voice came from the door to the training room.

"Your stance is off balance. You don't have the body weight to throw a sword like that around without the momentum pulling you with it."

While you had immediately turned to face the recent intruder, you hadn't needed to. You would have recognized that condescending baritone anywhere.

You clicked your tongue in slight annoyance. _'Who asked you anyways?'_ you thought. He was right of course, but you had no desire to become a master of the great sword, simply needing the stress relief of a good work out and not having your preferred tool at your current disposal.

You weren't sure why you were feeling so tongue tied all of the sudden. Pretty much anyone else in the citadel, save the royal family, would have gotten an earful and a middle finger for such a remark. True, Gladiolus had hardly ever spoken more than two words to you before and maybe there was a small part of you hidden deep, _very_ deep inside that held some _very_ slight admiration for his constant dedication to his craft. However, that feeling was greatly overshadowed by your hatred of being in second place and your burning desire to someday knock his ass down a peg or two.

Turning away from him and lifting the weapon again you huffed a bit indignantly before responding. "My stance isn't for a great sword, it's for a scythe."

A small chuckle echoed off the training room walls and he quipped back, "Yes, I am aware of that, Miss Daunting (if not tiny) Grim Reaper. It doesn't change the fact that you're holding the damn sword wrong."

You didn't much care for his condescending tone and didn't bother to justify it with a response, returning to your training as if there was nobody else in the room, though perhaps widening your stance just slightly. After a few long moments of silence, you had assumed that he had left you to finish your workout in peace, but when curiosity got the better of you and you turned to check, he was standing there with a training sword in his own in his hand, outstretching it slowly in an obvious point of challenge, confident smirk already in place. "Training is a lot more progressive with a partner, you know."

You frowned as you felt a slight pang of jealously settle in your stomach at how easily he held the training sword in his muscled arm. Despite the size and weight, it was as if the tool was an extension of himself and he showed no sign of effort using it. You hated to admit it; refused to ever do so out loud, but it was times like this that you could truly see the gap between your power and the power of the man in front of you. As much as it killed you, the opportunity to train with the strongest recruit in your class didn't come often and you weren't the type to let your pride get in the way of a chance to learn from the best, at least not completely.

Raising an eyebrow, you allowed your own smirk to slip onto your face, trying to hide the unwelcome nerves from creeping into your voice. "You want to spar, I'll spar. However, I've been swinging that clunky thing around for the past 45 minutes, it's hardly fair to expect me to be on equal ground with you now." You tossed the tool off to the side of the room, brushing imaginary dirt off your hands after you did so, allowing blood to flow back to your fingers. "Hand to hand, first blood or first to yield." You issued the challenge of your own, trying not to become too pleased at the surprised look on Gladiolus' face at your declaration. Obviously, he hadn't been expecting you to rise to his challenge in such a way.

A sinister grin that left a shiver across your skin broke out across his face and he casually tossed his own training sword to the side as he took a stance more suited for hand to hand combat. "If you insist. Loser buys drinks."

While you weren't so sure what to think of that addition, it was too late to back out now, your blood was already pumping adrenaline in apprehension of trying to take of this beast of a man. He was probably close to twice your body weight in pure muscle and towered over you by at least 6 or 7 inches. As if that wasn't intimidating enough you knew how he fought. The man was relentless and quicker than his size let on, especially when he wasn't weighed down by a weapon.

The dance wordlessly begun and after too much hesitation, Gladiolus opened his arms wide in invitation. "Lady's first."

Frowning, you threw a kick to his left side, to which he easily dodged, quickly following up with a couple of careful jabs, testing the waters as he easily sidestepped the first punch and caught the other in his palm before tossing it aside. You were starting to feel pretty annoyed with him so obviously playing with you, but refused to take the bait. You knew the second you charged in blindly he would have you knocked out on the floor with one sweep of his arm.

Trying once more, you feinted to the right before ducking and using your momentum to throw a spin kick toward his side, aggravated as he managed to catch your ankle with his opposite arm right before it connected, sweeping the ground in a defensive stance as he threw your kick out again. 

"I never took you for the type to let a woman do all the work, Gladiolus." You taunted, letting out a huff of annoyance, tired of him not taking the sparing session seriously.

"Oh? It's not fun if it's over too quickly, Doll. Though I must admit I'm a little surprised you even know my name, what with the way you persistently ignore me like I'm the plague." He remarked, throwing a punch with absolutely no power behind it, to which you dodged with ease and a roll of your eyes.

"If only it were possibly not to, _Gladiolus Amicita_. Number one recruit in the class. Chosen shield to Prince Noctis, Son of the shield of the king, need I go on? Wouldn't want you to combust from all that hot air in your head." You talked, blocking one of his punches as you did so, throwing a couple of quick jabs in return as your sparring session started to pick up a bit in pace. 

The man barked out a laugh at that, seemingly amused at the banter and suddenly gripping your wrist out of the air as you went to punch, throwing you off balance as you fell into his chest in a sudden scramble. The moment you found your footing you tried to wrench your arm from his iron grip and put some distance from that chest built of solid muscle but with shock and more than a little embarrassment you found Gladio's arm wrapped around your waist, pinning your other arm to your side and holding you right where you were with little chance of escape. 

Forcefully, but without harming you he bent your arm to where it was behind your back, putting you in a rather awkward and uncomfortable sort of bear hug that had you arched far enough back and him bend far enough forward, that your faces were basically sharing the same breath. The look in his eyes was dark and for the moment his smug expression was replaced with something darker. Your heartrate suddenly increased exponentially, despite the already quick pace that came from the exertion of your sparring match and if your cheeks weren't flushed red already, they certainly were now.

"Will you yield?" He asked, his voice somehow even deeper and huskier than usual and you found a feeling stirring in your belly that for the first time wasn't jealously or resentment towards the man. Your eyes flickered from those captivating orbs down to his lips, parted just slightly in what you could only assume was apprehension. It was like being under a spell or drug. The smell of clean sweat of his skin, the heat that tumbled from him in waves, you could even taste his breath in the air. For one passing thought you felt that if he were to close the gap between your mouths, if he were to overwhelm you completely right then and there, it might not truly be so bad.

However, the passing moment was just that, _passing_ and you came to your senses with alarm, unwilling to be toyed with any longer. How drunk off of power was this beast, anyway? Hardening your expression, you leaned back as far as possible to put as much distance from that dangerous expression as possible.

"Never. Not with you." You stated, double meaning fully intended as you expected him to catch the hint and release you from this little game. Unfortunately, the man in front of you wasn't one to give up so easily and seemingly undeterred, he took the wrist still gripped from behind your back, gently twisting it to where it was now in-between them, putting some much-needed inches between your torso and his. 

"Hmmm, I think you'll find I don't easily lose."

You attempted a slight struggle away but you were still completely at his mercy as he lifted your wrist to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on your pulse point, fully aware of the sharp increase of your heart beat at the gesture. You knew he was pulling you under again, but you found yourself unable to do anything but watch as he slid that giant hand of his higher up until he uncurling your fingers front their tightly clenched fist. You were equal parts captivated and terrified by his movements, your body leaning away as much as he would allow while your eyes glazed over as your deepest and darkest desires came to surface, all in the form of the very real man in front of you.

It took everything in your power not to let out a moan as he wrapped his lips around the tip of your finally uncurled index finger, tasting you unabashedly while you could do nothing but stare and try not to let your knees buckle in desire. Then, without warning a truly devious look came over his expression and with a sharp jolt of pain you were snapped out of whatever trance he held, stumbling back as he finally let you out of the death grip he held on your waist. 

Trying to make sense of what just happened, you glanced wide eyed at the finger glistening with saliva, to the smug expression in front of you and back to your hand that you held up for closer observation. "Did you...?", You started as a small red trickle of blood pooled eagerly to the surface of your index finger, beading and dripping to the floor of the gym. You narrowed your eyes in disbelief and anger. "Did you just fucking _bite_ me?!" You demanded and without responding you could tell by Gladiolus' expression that your accusation had not been misguided. 

"To first blood I believe the rules were? As I said before, baby girl, I don't easily lose."

You stared wide eyed open mouthed for a long moment before narrowing your gaze. "You are unbelievable, you know that? Fucking unbelievable. Cool it with the pet names, asshole. I'm not one of your swooning fan girls."

"Really? Could have fooled me a moment ago." He quipped back, leaning against the back wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

You couldn't help but let out a humorless chuckle. "I always thought you were a self-righteous prick, strutting around like you're hot shit. Well let me tell you something Gladiolus Amicita. You may be the top of the class, but you are the worst person I have ever met. Thanks for proving what I already knew." You said, knot forming in your throat in the first time in years. You would not let this prick see your tears however, so before your lip could tremble, you whipped around and stormed to the door, only stopping for a brief moment when Gladio called out your name.

You didn't bother to turn all the way around, merely tilting your head as you waited for what you could only assume was going to be an apology. Unfortunately, you assumed wrong.

"You owe me a date. I'm going to hold you to it." His voice was oddly devoid of humor, though you didn't turn to see what expression he held.

Unwilling to even humor such trash anymore, you scoffed and popped your bleeding finger in your mouth, storming out of the room without so much as a backwards glance.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know in the comments if you'd like to see this go somewhere. Cheers!


End file.
